


(unnamed ficlets)

by Anonymous



Category: Anonymous - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, gratuitous selfship bullshit made public, it's tagged for noncon but its more like dubcon, what's a consistent tense never met her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Second-person-oriented adventures in the Underground. Originally private self-ship fics. Explicit stuff in last chapter, rest is fluff-ish and angst.





	1. oops

**Author's Note:**

> i got just enough courage to post these but god please don't give me criticism or i'll die from my rsd  
> these are all kinda old and i've never been good at keeping the correct tense  
> there's explicit stuff eventually and that's why it's labelled as such  
> i am so fucking sorry

Running really wasn’t your thing.

But it was all you could do at this point.

You’d fallen into the Underground of your own free will, traversed the Ruins after you’d awakened, and exited into Snowdin Forest. There, you encountered a friendly (yet decidedly short) skeleton and his (decidedly taller and louder) brother. After plenty of puzzles and other shenanigans, the taller had fought you. And you’d lost and ended up “captured”. It made you panic. You attacked the lanky skeleton out of fear at the next chance you had, and nearly killed him in one blow.

His brother didn’t take kindly to that. At all.

Which is why you were now knee-deep in deep snow, doing your best to get away from him. You can’t hear him chasing you, but you can feel it. In your bones, perhaps, if only because the pun was appropriate. Or maybe because literal bones would embed themselves mere inches from you every time you paused. A few times he’d hit his mark and shattered your soul, only for you to reset; but it wasn’t a saving grace, merely a setback. He was waiting for you every time, even if you didn’t spot him right away. Sometimes you saw Papyrus first, but he would always shrink away from your view, or you’d start running before he could even say anything.

This time you’d taken a different route, and it had proved mostly promising up until you ran out of path and stood at the edge of a cliff. Far below, there was the gentle glow of a single house’s lights. You’d have thought it pretty if you knew you weren’t about to die painfully. You try to turn around to go back, but he’s right in front of you the second you do, staring up at you with empty eyesockets and hands in his pockets.

“you seem a little on edge, human,” he says, head tilting only enough to be furtherly unnerving. You give a soft, frightened huff through your nose in response, your gaze flickering between him and the snow beneath you. You barely register it when he removes his hands from his pockets, closing your eyes tightly to wait for the bones to pierce your flesh.

Except.. that isn’t what happened. No, no bones. Just a rough shove and a fall, but you reset before you hit the ground. Again, you wake up in the ruins, but you don’t bother getting up. You stay there in the flowers, paying no mind to the snarkier of the plants when it pops up and begins making fun of your attempts. Eventually, you scoot to the far end of the chamber and huddle against the cave wall on your side. There was no point in leaving, was there? So there wasn’t even a point in trying. The tears come before exhausted slumber does.

You’re only asleep for a few hours when the feeling of bony fingers nudging gently in your hair startles you into consciousness. Sans had found you. You simply stare at him with wide, tired eyes, not even attempting to speak to him, let alone question his method of waking you up. He stays quiet, too, for a time, fingertips lightly tracing little patterns on your scalp. The silence is broken after a while.

“you’re sorry, huh?”

You nod. You nod and nod and nod and very nearly start crying again when you feel his fingers against your cheek, still just as gentle as before. He talks to you for a short while, once he’s able to get responses out of you. He questions why you’re here, why you attacked, what you planned to do. You do your best to explain, even when your mind clouds and your words become stuttered and shaky. All the while, he keeps up the calming ministrations.

“i getcha. you didn’t mean it. i still had to get the point across, though, y'know?”

You nod again, just once this time. He chuckles and withdraws his hand, standing up a moment later. He tells you to meet him in the forest – and before you can reply, he’s gone in the blink of an eye.

Reluctantly, you stand and slowly make your way through the Ruins again as requested, ignoring the incredulous glances from the talking flower as you go along. When you finally emerge from the massive door at the end, Sans is waiting for you with his brother. Papyrus is wringing his hands gently, his gaze full of worry and remorse – briefly, you muse upon the fact that he doesn’t look right with that kind of expression.

“HUMAN, I.. SANS TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE SO FRIGHTENED! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM VERY SORRY.” He rubs briefly over the spot on his chest where you’d attacked him before. There was no mark, at least not physically. Sans watches closely as his brother extends an open hand towards you. You’re visibly nervous, but you reach out and gently grip onto his gloved fingers, not making eye contact until he reaches over with his free hand to tilt your chin up.

“DO NOT WORRY!! I WILL NOT CAPTURE YOU AGAIN. ARE YOU HUNGRY? THAT HAPPENS VERY FREQUENTLY WITH HUMANS, YES?”

A shaken, amused huff escapes you. He takes it as a "yes" and begins to gently lead you towards Snowdin, with Sans trailing behind.

Maybe surviving the fall wasn’t that bad after all.


	2. oh

You’d been staying with the skeleton brothers for a while, now. You mostly slept on the couch, occasionally leaving to stay in the nearby inn when you wanted a bed that didn’t occasionally jingle with impossible-to-find spare change. It was.. nice. You’d all taken a trip to see the King after the first week or two; while things were tense at first, you had bonded with Asgore over a cup of tea and civil conversation. As adults would, of course.

Despite how important your soul was, a human’s lifespan was considerably shorter than a monster’s – and thus, you spending the rest of your life in the Underground was perfectly fine so long as your soul would be stored away once you passed. But! That was a while away, from your standpoint. So for now, skeleton roommates.

Papyrus had easily warmed up to you. You traded stories now and then, though his were far more limited than yours – you couldn’t really blame him for repeating things now and then, nor did you stop him. It was endearing. Sans, however.. remained understandably wary of you. While he wasn’t outright aggressive like he had been after the incident, he acted mildly standoffish, and his brother had mentioned now and again that he had started drinking a bit heavier than he used to.

Of course.. you couldn’t help but worry that you were causing issues between the two siblings, though you hid it well whenever either of them were around. Tonight, unfortunately, wasn’t a good night for your anxiety-induced paranoia, and you found yourself with your face buried in a couch cushion, quiet sobs muffled by the object. The familiar feeling of bony digits at your scalp soon told you that you weren’t quiet enough, though.

Sans had settled himself on the floor near you, leaning against the couch as he scritched into your hair. No words, of course, just simple exchanged glances and a few little huffs of breath. He eventually coaxed you into a sitting position and joined you on the couch, and you two talked for a time about your worries, your fretting. At some point, though, you both grew quiet and tiredly leaned against each other, emotionally spent from your little Feelings Jam and too exhausted to shift positions.

You’d zoned out for a long while at that point. What brought you back was the strange sensation of something solid against your cheek and the realization that Sans had shifted up rather close to your face – and then it dawned on you that he’d given you his best attempt at a peck on the cheek. Wide-eyed, you stared at him – embarrassing him, naturally – before managing a weak giggle and a returned smooch.

. . .

When Papyrus came downstairs the next morning, he found you and Sans cuddled together on the couch; the small skeleton had settled in your lap with your arms wrapped snugly around him, and you were both sound asleep.  
Smiling and saying nothing, he simply fetched a spare blanket and draped it over you both.


	3. jealousy

After that, you never slept on the couch again. Granted, sharing a bed with Sans was just about the same – the mattress was sort of filthy and smelled funny, and a bit lumpy.. but being occasionally cuddled up to the short skeleton made up for it. And he WAS quite the cuddler. Oftentimes, he snuggled up to your front and tucked his head under your chin, staying there for as long as possible before you’d have to shift and turn. Things never really got much further than that; you’d both humored the thought of fooling around, but with Sans never having the energy and you too paranoid about hurting him, the most that happened was a little groping and some lovebites.

Papyrus, of course, caught on to all of that nearly immediately, much to the horror of his brother; he was a naive boy, but not as much as Sans thought. All it’d taken was a comment about the hickeys on your neck to turn the poor guy’s face bluer than Undyne’s, and he’d quickly excused himself by teleporting out of the room. You, however, lacked the ability and just sat there awkwardly. But the taller sibling seemed more amused than anything else.. and maybe the slightest bit envious? Sans had mentioned before that his brother wasn’t exactly lucky in the relationship department.

So for the sake of making him feel better, you approached him and stood on your toes to press a tiny kiss to one of his cheekbones. The simple gesture made him squawk, almost, and was enough to satisfy him for the next week or two. But then.. it became a competition.

Papyrus would go out of his way to hold your hand if you all went out as a group, and Sans would lean on you when you stopped walking. Paps would attempt your favorite recipes; Sans would bring you your favorites from Grillby’s – and occasionally from Mettaton’s restaurant, too. (He’d also gotten you permanent VIP access to the whole building, much to the robot’s chagrin.)  
Eventually, however.. the poor lanky skeleton gave up his attempts at winning you over, and it was obvious. He’d starting moping, passing on cooking, doing his best to stay away from you both if you were hanging out.. and it made your soul ache.

Finally, you called them both into the living room one day and had them sit down with you on the couch, taking either of their hands in yours and just squeezing them gently as you explained that you didn’t want them to fight over you, you didn’t want to come between them.. you loved them both dearly, after all. The two skeletons shared glances before looking back at you.. then leaned in to give you a dual cheek kiss. It was fine. They were fine. You were fine.  
….. The semi-aggressive affection session afterwards was fine, too.


	4. hot hot tater tot

Grillby had taken a liking to you, too. Mostly because you paid your tab, but still. Sans took you there nearly every day, to the point where there would be a drink waiting for you before you even walked in the door. Today you came alone – Undyne had forced Sans out on proper guard duty for once, leaving you to your own devices. 

As you took your seat, Grillby nodded quietly in your direction before tending to his other customers. The drink was, of course, waiting. You poked idly at the little decorative umbrella he’d placed in it before taking the first sip, pleased at the fruity, bubbly taste. He’d invented it himself; it wasn’t anything named, you’d simply given him a few ideas and he’d mixed something up on the spot, gauging your reactions to modify the drink for the next visit. This time, it was almost perfect. A little too much liqueur, but it was still good.

Good enough to order four or five more times.

While “drunk” had yet to be a state anyone had seen you in, you were sort of halfway there. Giggly, a little more talkative, a lot more affectionate. Doggo had taken Sans’ seat for a while and gotten plenty of pets from you in exchange for another drink, and was the last one to leave the bar. The fiery barman hadn’t said a word the entire time, but he at least was keeping an eye on you – once you finished the gifted drink, he cut you off for the night. You complained a little, naturally, and he finally indulged you.. with a virgin drink, the missing sweet liqueurs substituted with various fruit juices. Still good, still fizzy. But it WAS late, and it was likely he had to close the bar sooner or later – why he hadn’t kicked you out, you couldn’t figure out.

Until he brought a stool around behind the bar and sat in front of you, barely-visible eyes gazing into yours. It was enough to get you to stop sipping at your drink, a mild noise of concern escaping you as one of his hands neared yours.. but the expected burning never happened. He was hot – but not to the touch. More like borderline uncomfortably warm. Your reaction urged a breathy, crackling chuckle out of him. And finally, for once, he spoke to you directly. He apologized for not cutting you off sooner, admitting that he enjoyed seeing you so giggly and flustered, noting the times that Sans had openly flirted with you (with probably the worst pick-up lines he’d ever heard) and sent you into a blushing fit.

Another admission followed – he was the slightest bit jealous, both of you and of Sans; he and the skeleton had an on-again-off-again thing going, but it wasn’t too serious, as they’d both expected in the first place. But Sans seemed awful serious about you, and likewise, you’d caught the fire elemental’s attention, too. His hand simply rested on yours during all of this; you were barely able to feel his ‘fingers’ ghosting across the top of your hand.. and then not at all, as you quietly suggested the thought of just being in a decidedly open relationship. The bartender blinked in mild surprise, having assumed it was out of the question, then gave another of those crackling laughs and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

At this rate, you’d probably end up with everyone in the Underground.


	5. trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just the tiniest hint of explicit

You’d finally found a way to fool around with Sans – and it was likely fixing to get you both kicked out of your favorite hangout. The bar had emptied out a while ago, and Grillby had disappeared past the fire door to do some cleaning-up; he trusted you both enough to not destroy or steal anything to let you stay until he was ready to lock up.

Playful nudges had turned to little gropes and tugs, and you’d soon found yourself on your knees, wedged snugly between Sans’ barstool and the counter. That magic-formed length of his posed more than enough questions, but all of them were disregarded in favor of kisses and gentle fondling. It only took a few hesitant licks for that to turn to full-on suckling, your head bobbing slowly between the skeleton’s legs as he curled over the bar, lost in the feeling.

Which was all fine and good, of course.. until you happened to open your eyes and glance past him, making direct eye contact with a very irritated, arms-folded barman. When had he come back out? How long had he been there? Well, it didn’t matter, because now he’d grabbed Sans by his hood and forcefully yanked him out of your mouth and off the barstool completely, holding him like a scruffed dog. Which he may as well have been, at that point – if Paps found out about this, he’d be sleeping in the doghouse.

As the fire elemental chastised his most-regular customer, you slowly curled around the barstool and tucked your head under the seat, shame setting in rather quickly. A hiccup had barely formed in your throat before it escaped as an almost-violent whimper as Grillby’s red-hot hand wrapped around your arm – he at least released you once he pulled you up, but it was too late to stop the painful burn from forming.

In a mix of distress and panic, though, you shoved Grillby roughly – causing him to fall – and bolted for the door, Sans calling after you in shock as you disappeared out into the snow.

. . .

Hours had passed. You had made a beeline for the forest and wandered aimlessly after the first burst of running, trying to get as far away from Snowdin as you could. Eventually, exhaustion sent you face-first into a snowbank, and you remained there for as long as you could tolerate before rolling over and sitting up against the nearest tree.

The burn still ached, even after you’d held a clump of snow there for as long as possible. Treating it was out of your expertise; medical needs weren’t your strong point. There was no way you could go back to the brothers’ house. No doubt Sans was in deep trouble, and there was no way Grillby would let you anywhere near his restaurant after not only fellating someone at his bar, but shoving him, too. And just imagining Papyrus being disappointed at all of this made your heart ache.

The cold was starting to hurt, now. Living in Snowdin meant wearing thick clothing, at least, but there was only so much it could do after a certain point. With no strength to keep going, you remained there against the tree, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to freeze.

At some point.. you lost consciousness.

You don’t know how long you were out, but you awoke to a familiar warmth, gentle crackling, and the steady bobbing of your body as you were carried back the way you’d came. As you floated in and out of slumber, you at least vaguely realized it was Grillby carrying you, and Sans was walking alongside him – the two chattered quietly, mostly about their worries regarding your present state. Your head was nestled against the barman’s shoulder as he held you bridal-style, and you managed the briefest nudge before passing out again.


	6. timeline hiccup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oopsie poopsie you made a fucksy-wucksie

A different time, a different reaction, a different you – maybe it was the same you? Timelines were finicky, confusing things, but as things stood now, you didn’t have much time to dwell on the subject.

Sans had startled you pretty bad when you left the ruins. All it had taken was a bad reflex to leave the small skeleton in literal pieces on the ground, his shocked expression forever burned into the back of your mind. The front, meanwhile, was more preoccupied with the very tall, very upset brother of his charging after you with vengeful intent, bones splitting the snow as he solidly marched after you.

You ran. Perhaps if it had been Sans, you would have had an easier time; Papyrus had much longer legs, and therefore took longer strides, his attacks nipping at your heels and threatening to pierce your legs as you fled.

Unfortunately, his stamina far surpassed yours as well – the moment you started to get tired, he upturned you with a single attack and flipped you onto your back in the snow. Before you could get up, he planted his boot square in the middle of your chest, staring down at you with an expression that was a mix of distress and undeniable rage.

He said nothing before a flurry of bones sprung from the snow and penetrated your torso, the attack no match for your tired soul.

Maybe he’d accept an apology after you reset.

… Well, if you could get that far.

Sans was there to greet you at the start, darkened eyesockets telling you that you were in for at least a Mildly Unfortunate Time. After the first surprise attack and another reset, you ran past him in a burst of speed, past Flowey and Toriel and all the way through the ruins. Sans purposely teleported around corners and remained just within your line of sight to spook you, his usual chuckle gaining a darker tone as time went on.

Finally, you broke through the Ruins door and into Snowdin Forest – and slammed directly into Papyrus, who didn’t budge from his hands-on-hips “I’m very disappointed in you” pose and general expression. A whimper escaped you before you bolted past the taller skeleton, Doggo, and the rest of the guards; Dogamy and Dogaressa nearly took your head off as you ran past, but thankfully, a last-minute slide through the snow saved you.

Unfortunately, the speed at which you carried yourself posed the stupidest of risks – the forest was partially cliffs, and naturally, you ended up sliding off one with only a lucky grasp saving your life. As you hung from the cliff face, you scrambled to climb back up.. only to see that the skeleton brothers had caught up immediately and were standing over you.

Sans whistled, commenting about the height of the drop. Papyrus remained silent, as did you… until the lankier of the two reached out to pull you onto the edge and help you onto your feet. Your entire frame shook, expecting bones in your flesh or perhaps a push.. instead, Paps grabbed your wrist and started to lead you off towards Snowdin.

Your apologies went unacknowledged.

You were their prisoner, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't continue this 'line' of thought so don't get excited


	7. all aboard the red line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> o o p s i e p o o p s i e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for ?? noncon/dubcon i guess  
> i almost didn't post this one and i probably shouldn't have  
> the ending is shitty bc i got depressed and lost interest and i haven't written fic since

“THIS IS THE HUMAN YOU STOLE?”

“yeah, boss. took ‘em right outta their timeline, no prob.”

“HMF. GOOD WORK, I SUPPOSE. EVEN IF IT WAS ALPHYS’ MACHINE THAT DID ALL THE ACTUAL WORK.”

You didn’t know where you were, or.. when you were. Or who you were. Timelines criss-crossed in your slumber; part of you was cuddled with Sans and Papyrus, part of you was collapsed miserably in their garage, surrounded by dry dog food and squeaky toys, but presently.. the rest of your consciousness was in the forest, your ass sunken in the snow as you scooted back against a tree.

With two decidedly pointier, redder versions of your two favorite skeletons staring you down.

“SORT OF A SORRY SPECIMEN. WE CAN AT LEAST AFFORD TO DRAG A FAR MORE PRESENTABLE HUMAN TO THE KING. I DON’T WANT TO TURN IN SOMETHING SO… PAINFULLY DULL,” the taller skeleton snapped, his words causing his decidedly sweatier brother to look up at him.

“… well, uh. if you say so. whatchu wanna do with this one?”

“KILL IT OR SOMETHING, I DON’T KNOW. I’M GOING TO GO BACK TO PATROLLING SO I DON’T HAVE TO LOOK AT IT. I EXPECT YOU TO DO THE SAME ONCE YOU’RE DONE.”

Papyrus turned and left.

“sure thing, boss,” Sans stated quietly as his gaze turned back to you, sharp grin of his broadening slightly. “been a while since i got to rip someone ta shreds.”

…………

You ran, of course. He didn’t chase you, but you ran anyway.

Deeper into the forest, deeper than you’d ever ran before in any other timeline. You came across dilapidated buildings, tripped over fallen, snow-covered trees, and narrowly avoided the rare monster or two that dwelled so far away from Snowdin. Eventually, you came across a nearly-intact house – the roof was a little shabby, but the interior was fine, as you’d come to find out by outright breaking in and barricading the door behind you.

There wasn’t much inside, just a few tables, chairs, and a lumpy bed with a few torn blankets that was more than inviting enough for your cold body. You wrapped yourself up in them and paced around worriedly; did he follow you? Did he go get his brother? Were you safe? Were you going to even survive out here?

The lattermost thought pushed you to break down a few of the chairs and make a small bonfire in the middle of the room. The smoke, thankfully, vented out of the broken roof and was quickly dispersed by the magic-induced wind outside. It was just enough to warm the whole cabin, and eventually, you retreated to the bed in the far corner and tried to rest. You didn’t want to fall asleep, but now that you were warm.. it was inevitable.

You awakened to the distinct feeling of something pressing down on your hips, and multiple sharp somethings gently caressing your cheek. Groggily, you opened your eyes.. only to see the malicious-looking Sans sitting comfortably in your lap, a clawed hand tracing patterns just underneath your eye.

“heh heh. morning, sleepin’ beauty.”

You wanted to scream, but it caught in your throat. Or maybe he’d caught it when he wrapped that same hand around your neck, the pressure making you squeak.

“man, you sure made it pretty far. didn’t know humans could run so fuckin’ fast when they’re scared. all i had t'do was walk, though.”

His grip loosened briefly to allow you a single gasp of precious air before squeezing again, claws digging into your skin. The way he was looking at you was.. decidedly dirtier than your first encounter. A pointed, red tongue licked over his equally pointy teeth, swirling around the single golden one before withdrawing.

“dunno what my bro was goin’ on about. usually i agree with whatever he says, but.. you ain’t that dull, dollface. y'kinda cute.”

Another moment to breathe, another squeeze. He was intent on controlling your air supply.

“n'look at yas. smart enough to make a fire to keep from freezin’ to death. cept, y'know, ya failed t'consider how the burning smell would travel. tracked ya down pretty easily.”

Tears were starting to run down your cheeks. He leaned in, putting his weight on your throat as he slid that crimson tongue up the side of your face, licking away the beads of liquid. You swore you heard a growl rise in his nonexistent throat, but became quickly distracted by the fact that he had slipped his other hand into his shorts and was very visibly stroking himself.

“mmmghh.. god. i haven’t gotten laid in a while. guess it’s a good thing ya came along after all.”

Oh, God. He.. he wasn’t serious, right?

The question was easily answered as the red-magic skeleton released your throat and pulled his shorts down a bit, exposing his cock in full, clawed hand fondling it idly as he scooted up to sit on your chest. You weren’t really sure if “throbbing” was the right word, perhaps.. “pulsing” – but it was definitely already dripping the monster equivalent of cum all over your neck. He rubbed the head of it against the mess he’d made, giving another one of those low, growl-like chuckles.

“dunno if i wanna fuck yer face first, or just make ya watch as i jack off. whaddaya think, kitten?”

You remained silent – probably the wisest option you had. Sans gave a soft 'tch’ of annoyance before he resumed stroking himself, shifting to sit on his knees on either side of you as he propped himself up with his spare arm. His cock hovered just in front of your face as he grunted and moaned, the occasional drop of pre-cum falling against your skin. Frozen in place out of fear, all you could do was focus on his actions; trying to move would likely prove fatal, or at the very least, incredibly painful.

However.. as the minutes passed, the skeleton only seemed to be getting frustrated. He’d near his orgasm and pump himself fiercely, only to lose the moment and go back to slower strokes and teasing. You.. almost felt bad. Almost. But in your desire to get things over with (and perhaps be spared instead of killed) you leaned your head up a bit and nervously ran your tongue against the head of his cock. Sans outright gasped and trembled before his red eyes focused on yours, expression unsure for the briefest moment before he sported the prior wicked grin.

“heheheh… knew ya’d warm up to me. well? keep at it.”

He pushed his length into your face, tip rubbing against your lips. You gave it another tentative lick before cautiously taking him in, your mouth barely able to contain the magic-produced cock in full without triggering your gag reflex. He settled on your chest again, a hand busying itself in your hair as you began to bob your head back and forth. He growled quietly in appreciation at first, but as you slid your tongue along the underside and sped up your pace, what would have been moans came out as eager little whimpers instead.

“sshh– shit, fff-fuck, god, that’s good–”

He tangled his other hand in your hair as well and began to thrust against your mouth, keeping your head pulled forward so that he could hilt himself against your lips each time. Thankfully, the abuse doesn’t last long; he eventually outright curled over your head and emptied himself into your mouth and throat, the taste nearly nonexistent save for the slightest hint of.. cherries? Interesting. In any case, Sans was satisfied, and you were decidedly still alive – that’s all that mattered to you at the moment. The skeleton pulled himself away from your face once his length had faded away, half-lidded eyes peering at you.

“mmh.. good work, sweets. maybe i really won’t have t'kill ya, if ya can keep up with that..”

Slowly but surely, the skeleton shifted and stretched himself out, settling on top of you. His arms folded over your chest before he laid his head down on top of them, violently red eyes still focused on your face, though he seemed.. tired. You could easily push him off at this point, perhaps run with what little energy you had regained – but.. he was basically sparing you, wasn’t he? There wasn’t a need to be violent, not now. And.. you had to admit, once the guy closed his eyes and dozed off, he was.. kind of cute. Like the Sans you knew.

Carefully, cautiously, you brought your arms up and wrapped them around him as you ever-so-gently turned onto your side. He opened his eyes immediately and made a noise of displeasure, but he quickly realized that nothing fishy was going on. He gave you a look-over, re-adjusted his arms, and quietly snuggled up against your chest.

Things weren’t so different here after all.


End file.
